


Don't Tempt Me

by baby_bubastis



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 21 year old Shuri, 45 year old Ross, Age Difference, BDSM, Biting, Blow Job, Brat, But he has his limits, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dom! Everett, EverShur - Freeform, F/M, Kink, Light Choking, Pinching, Ross is eating it up, Shuri has a smart mouth, Spanking, Sub! Shuri, Vaginal Fingering, What else is new, daddy - Freeform, did I mention daddy kink?, mention of anal, slight exhibitionism?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-15 13:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17529521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baby_bubastis/pseuds/baby_bubastis
Summary: Her tongue is sharp.Oh, how he loves the sting.But he has a bite all his own, and he's not sure he can hold it back anymore.





	1. No, no, keep it up

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this one for a few weeks, pondering whether or not it should be a one-shot, but, apparently, I need more of this, and hopefully you all do too? From what I understand, Martin Freeman is pretty feisty in real life. He has quite the potty mouth, and a cheeky, biting sense of humor, so that really inspired me here. I just thought, 'What if polite, diplomatic, stuffy Everett Ross had a Dom hiding inside of him? And every time Shuri sasses the hell out of him, he gets closer and closer to the edge?' IDK lol hopefully y'all enjoy this.

She’s the King's sister.

 

He repeats that to himself like a mantra. As he's stepping off the plane, when he climbs into the car, while driving through the streets of Oakland, as he swipes his badge at the front entrance.

 

In his fourteen years in the CIA - in all his forty five years, really - Everett K. Ross has never seen anything like her.

 

*

*

*

 

_Her small frame flinched. As she turned, dark skin flushed, glittering eyes raking over his weary form, his entire body went cold, then hot._

_“Don’t _scare_ me like that, colonizer!”_

 

*

*

*

 

He's always been a serious man. In his line of work, humor can be a coping mechanism. 

 

It isn't his. 

 

Everett learned a long time ago that he was hot-blooded, not light-hearted, and that kind of temperament can get you killed. One too many bloody noses and bruised-up classmates taught him early on that his best strategy lay in calculated detachment. In other words, bottling that shit up.

 

Let himself feel too much of anything - anger, panic, confusion, irritation - and the reins would slip, and he would be lost. 

 

So he constructed a careful facade for himself, hid behind it. He channeled the fire into meticulous habits that bordered on compulsive. 

 

It didn't serve him well in his failed marriage, or any of the other few romantic entanglements he'd had throughout his life. It _had_ earned him a prestigious position and brought him home alive time and again, and he wasn't about to abandon that now.

 

Snark. Sarcasm. Sass.

 

He's never had time for any of it. 

 

Oh, he'll give a humorless chuckle when some asshole inevitably throws a cleverly-worded jab his way for one reason or another, trying to throw him off balance. By this point, he's well-practiced in swallowing down the rising rage, like a bitter poison to which he's built up an immunity.

 

But her deceptively mellifluous voice bites out the sharp retort, her very first words to him, and he's already off-kilter. The gunshot wound, waking up in this strange place, finding _her_ here - it's all disrupted his equilibrium.

 

"...Okay, is this Wakanda?"

 

"No, it's Kansas." 

 

Everett doesn't know if it is her bewitching accent or the offhanded way in which she says it, but the second quip hits, and a tiny crack forms in his facade. 

 

He can feel it. 

 

So he drops his head, closes his eyes briefly, exhales quickly to center himself before the crack can grow.

 

She's full of those, though, and he begins to recognize the familiar heat that sparks in his belly. It's one he hasn't felt in a long time. There is something about that smart mouth, those sharp eyes, that wicked grin. She's lit a fuse. 

 

He's not sure he remembers how to stifle it now. He sure as hell doesn't want to.

 

 

He does, though. 

 

The second he lays eyes on T'Challa after the whole incident, he remembers himself. This is the King. That is the Princess. They saved his life when they had no obligation. Yes, he helped thwart N'Jadaka's plans, but Shuri engineered even that, so he can't truly take credit. Not that he wants to. 

 

What Everett Ross wants is too taboo for words, too dangerous to indulge. So he swallows it down, like a hot poker. 

 

When it hits his gut, it keeps on burning and adds to the flame.

 

*

*

*

 

That first encounter was years ago now, when she was still 18, barely aware of her power. He's still not certain she fully knows it, but at 21, she is even lovelier, stronger. That tongue is _sharper_. 

 

They've developed their own little language of sorts, of glances and witty comebacks.

 

He always indulges in one or two, for _her_.

 

 

When his bosses realized he had a connection to Wakanda, Ross was reassigned. He is an asset after all, and now they would use that to their advantage in relations with the once-secretive nation. He accepted the title of liaison as he accepted almost everything else; with stoicism and a terse nod.

 

Secretly, his pulse jumped at the notion that their interaction wouldn't be a one-time thing.

 

It became routine for him to fly out to Wakanda at intervals, or to pop into the Outreach Centre when she was in the States. 

 

*

*

*

 

It's been months, but when he strolls in that morning, she's expecting him.

 

"Ross! I was beginning to think you'd retired, old man."

 

His nostrils flare. He shouldn't like that. Lord help him, he eats it up.

 

"Forgive me, Princess," he says, allowing the tiniest of smirks to slip through. "I believe a happy belated birthday is in order? I'm sorry I missed it. I’ll make it up to you," he jokes.

 

She hums. Her eyes now are assessing, but warm. They flit over him from head to toe and then she nods, gesturing for him to follow. " _Will_ you, now?"

 

The words are uttered quickly, under her breath. It's the _tone_ that nearly does him in. His eyes go wide, but he gives no other indication of the jolt that her remark sends through him, and she continues walking as though she hasn't said a thing.

 

 

Shuri is making renovations to her lab to accommodate a new project, and drawing up plans for another facility to be built on the East coast.

 

Ross is here to aid with progress.

 

In between discussing plans and reviewing blueprints, they chat, updating each other on their personal lives. He listens with interest as she excitedly relays her travels throughout the U.S., Europe, Asia. She's made new friends along the way. His jaw clenches when she throws out a male name or two, said with particular fondness. 

 

His own update is short: he works, he sleeps, that's about it.

 

She also uses him as extra muscle. The glint in her eyes as she orders him around boils his blood in the most insidious way.

 

_Come here. Move that. Stand there. Lift this._

 

He takes it all with barely a word. When he removes his jacket and undoes the first two buttons of his shirt, something shifts in her expression.

 

"Getting hot, old man?" 

 

She has no idea.

 

"Just makes it easier to move around, Your Highness," he grunts while moving an especially large and peculiar piece of equipment.

 

"Careful with that. I'm not paying you to break my things." 

 

A chuckle bubbles forth from his belly, and he glances to his left. 

 

Perched prettily on one of the cluttered desks, long legs crossed, Shuri arches a brow and shifts her bottom.

 

He feels another crack.

 

Turning back to the task at hand, he mutters, "You're not paying me at all."

 

She hops down, leisurely making her way over to him. "That can be remedied," she murmurs, before brushing past him and sauntering over to one of the computers.

 

She leans forward, and the hem of her skirt lifts. He nearly groans at the sight of the rich skin of her upper thighs.

 

Just then, Shuri's head lab assistant strides in.

 

"Princess, your conference call is in five minutes." The tall, handsome man gives a slight bow, and smiles politely.

 

Shuri straightens, turning from the busy screen. "Thank you, Lwazi. I'll be right there."

 

As she follows him out of the lab to take her call, her gaze meets Everett's. She says nothing, but her lingering brown eyes smolder, and he looks up to the ceiling.

 

She's the King's sister.

 

*

*

*

 

The rest of the day flies by. They're so busy that Shuri sends out for dinner, and they work while they eat.

 

It's dark by the time she decides to call it a day.

 

"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.

 

"Actually, I'm not ready to be cooped up in my hotel room for the rest of the night just yet. I think you owe me a birthday drink." Withdrawing a hand from one of the pockets of her skirt, she brandishes the keys to his rental car. "You drive?" Its less a question than a command. It makes his spine tingle.

 

"How did you get my keys?" 

 

She gives a cheeky little grin. "You'd like me to tell you, wouldn't you?"

 

Another crack.

 

His bones hum at her defiance. He cracks the knuckles of his left hand and smiles, a little too brightly.

 

"Just curious, Princess. What about the Dora?" The two Dora Milaje that usually travel with her are currently bringing her car around, and Ross only has a two-seater.

 

Shuri waves a hand dismissively. "I gave them the night off."

 

He pauses in shrugging on his blazer. "Can you do that?"

 

She scoffs. "I thought you knew better than to underestimate me, Ev?" 

 

She's never called him that. 

 

Always 'Ross,' or 'old man'. 

 

The way she says this shortened version of his first name, perfect teeth practically biting into her plump lower lip... he gulps. His facade is splintered now, decorated with a dangerous spiderweb of cracks. All it would take is one small push to shatter it. If that were to happen...

 

"Well?" she asks impatiently, pulling him from his train of thought. She looks good enough to eat - slender legs in a wide stance, one hand on her hip while the other twirls his stolen keys, ripe mouth curved up into a sardonic grin.

 

Everett finishes pulling on his jacket and sweeps an arm in front of him. "After you, Your Highness."

 

*

*

*

 

Shuri picks the place. Of course.

 

Ross holds open the passenger door of his rental. 

 

"Such a gentleman." She bats her dark lashes, slowly sliding into the leather seat. His hands grip the doorframe for a brief moment, turning his knuckles white, and then he carefully swings it shut.

 

If only she knew.

 

 

Navigating the busy streets of the city, he nods his head to the lilt of her voice as she tells him where to turn.

 

When the tires hit a stretch of bumpy road, she gasps. It's barely audible over the music playing through the speakers, but it draws his attention. She shifts in her seat, fingers momentarily digging into the skin of her thighs.

 

His face heats, and he clears his throat.

 

"Everything alright?"

 

Her gaze slowly lifts to his. It nearly burns him alive. "Eyes front, Agent." 

 

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, matching hers, and he focuses back on the road ahead.

 

*

*

*

 

The Layover is a cozy, dimly lit bar with eclectic decor and a decent DJ. It's busy, but out of the way, so no one seems to recognize her. They don't wait long for a table.

 

"So what _did_ you do for your birthday?" he questions.

 

Shuri is still nursing her first drink, Ross his second.

 

"Well, the legal drinking age back home is 18, so I didn't go out binge-drinking like you Americans do."

 

He chuckles. "Ugh, I remember my 21st. My friends had to carry me out of some hole-in-the-wall near the base. Pretty sure they thought I was dead. When I woke up the next morning, I wished I was." He shakes his head, reminiscing on one of the few times in his life he'd let himself indulge in anything.

 

Her giggle slithers into his veins. It intoxicates him in a way the alcohol couldn't possibly.

 

"Yeah, I didn't have _nearly_ that wild of a time. Actually, I had breakfast with Mother, then dinner later with a few friends... and I spent the rest of the night in my lab." She mumbles the last part into her glass, and he's sure that if he pressed a hand to her cheek right now, it would be hot.

 

He tsks. " _That_ , Princess, is no way to spend a birthday. Especially your 21st."

 

Shuri glances up, arching a brow.

 

"I know, I know." He raises his hands in defense. "But it's a big deal _here_. Just seems you should have some sort of epic celebration." He leans back in the small booth and watches as she eyes him thoughtfully.

 

"Well," she replies, "the night is young."

 

 

The first time it happens, it's an accident.

 

The bar is crowded, and all that was available when they arrived was a small booth in one of the far corners. There is a partition on one side, and a separate table on the other. Shuri insisted on sitting on the inside, and Everett simply shrugged, acquiescing to her innocent request.

 

Sometime after her first drink, she gets up to use the restroom. The table next to him is occupied, so he can't move out all the way. When she scoots past, her back makes contact with his front. 

 

A small grunt leaves his throat. She pauses, then continues.

 

He's got to get a hold of himself, so his second martini is his last, and he's sipping ice water when she returns.

 

 

The second time, she almost falls into him. He would wonder if she's a little tipsy, but her first drink stares up at him from the wooden table, unfinished.

 

"Sorry," she mumbles. She doesn't sound the least bit apologetic.

 

By this point, his careful shield is all but useless. She's been pushing and pulling him all day, and the only thing keeping him from combusting on the spot is the fact that he’s sure she doesn't truly realize how she's affecting him. That, and the one truth he clings to like a lifeline.

 

She's the King's sister.

 

The sound of her clearing her throat startles him. She crooks her finger in an upward motion as he sits staring at her dumbly. "Up."

 

He exhales sharply at the command, standing to let her through. She doesn't linger this time, but he thinks he feels her press back ever so slightly.

 

 

The third time, he’s onto her.

 

Three fourths of a cocktail and one water can't possibly merit that many bathroom trips.

 

She slides out of the booth, stumbling backward just a bit. He steadies her momentarily, and then she continues on. "Oops."

 

He suppresses a chuckle.

 

On her return, he's watching her. The sway of her slim hips is hypnotizing, and he lingers on the brown skin of her thighs peeking out between her stockings and skirt, before sweeping up her body to the devious glimmer in her eyes. 

 

She doesn't even give him a chance to stand fully before squeezing by, and she definitely grinds against him deliberately this time.

 

Blindingly fast, he shoots a hand out to her hip.

 

His lips find her ear, and he practically growls his next words. "You have _one_ more time to do that, Princess."

 

She freezes.

 

Her surprise is momentary, however, because she has the nerve to look back at him and roll her eyes. “ _Yes, Daddy_." All the blood rushes straight to his cock, and he nearly falls right back down onto the bench. 

 

That smart mouth.

 

He pushes his groin against her backside, gripping her hip tighter.

 

Her stifled moan shatters the last vestiges of his control.

 

" _Sit down_."

 

Releasing his hold, he allows her to make it all the way into the booth. Her eyes focus in on his mouth, and she licks her lips. As she smooths out her skirt, her phone slips from her hand and onto the floor. Before Ross can react, she bends down, lifting her bottom clean off the seat to reach for the dropped device.

 

The very bottom curve of her ass is _just_ barely visible beneath the raised hem of the short garment.

 

Oh. She _does_ know what she's doing. That realization sets him ablaze.

 

Everett Ross is _sick_ and fucking tired of always being so stoic, so disciplined.

 

He's never let himself want anything as much as he wants her. But she's making it clear now that she wants to play. He is _more_ than happy to oblige.

 

He flexes the fingers of both hands, still fighting against the raw, animal urges coursing through him now.

 

And then she sits back up, perfect behind pressing right up against his left thigh. She crosses her left leg over her right and it brushes his fingertips.

 

Her eyes are boring straight into his, pupils blown wide, but they still hold a hint of defiance.

 

"You sure you about this?" he whispers.

 

"What did I say about underestimating me, Everett?"

 

Her lips part then, at the grin he's giving her that he knows is positively sinful. 

 

Never breaking eye contact, he leans in, lightly brushing his lips against the corner of her mouth. But he doesn't kiss her fully. He watches as her eyes slip closed, listens as her breathing stutters. He slides his left hand across her thighs, carefully uncrossing her left leg.

 

"Look at me, Shuri." Her lids flutter open at the words whispered against her lips, and, if he didn't know any better, he would swear she was drunk.

 

His rough, calloused hand tickles the skin of her legs, slowly moving from her knees up, up, up.

 

When he reaches the fabric of her little skirt, a moan slips past her lips.

 

"Sshhh." Normally, she would huff indignantly at the admonishment. He almost wishes she would, but a small line has formed in her forehead, just below the tiny crescent moon scar, and her gaze is unfocused. She squirms in her seat, but doesn't make another sound as his fingers slip under the skirt. Her thighs part wantonly. 

 

_Good girl._

 

When he grazes the lace seat of her panties, he hisses.

 

"Something wrong, Ev?" There she is. But the retort isn't as sharp as she intended, because it's breathless, almost needy. 

 

Everett would chuckle, if he had any circulating blood left. 

 

"How long have you been this wet?" 

 

"Mmmmm. Since you walked in the door this morning."

 

He curses.

 

"Such language, old man." How she can still sass him while his finger is lightly rubbing her swollen folds over the thin fabric is beyond him, but it turns him on even more.

 

"Does it offend you?" he asks, grinning against her cheek now. Before she can answer, he pulls her ruined panties aside and slides two thick fingers just past her lips. The scent of her arousal fills his nostrils in the partially enclosed booth, and he's glad the people that were seated near them have gone.

 

Most of the patrons are hanging out at the bar or on the dance floor now. While he and Shuri are the only ones back in this corner, people still walk by, and their waiter is bound to make an appearance at some point. 

 

He just loves teasing her like this, and he can't stop.

 

Her mouth is shut tight, but her hips do the most delicious roll when he strokes a finger over her engorged bud, and he bites back a moan himself.

 

As luck would have it, their waiter chooses that moment to check in. 

 

Shuri's eyes fly open. When she tries to slam her legs closed on his hand under the table, Everett removes his fingers and lightly pinches her inner thigh. A warning.

 

"How are we doing over here?" the young man asks brightly. If he notices what they're doing, he doesn’t say a word. To anyone walking by, they look like two people on a date cozying up to each other.

 

Everett shifts his face into a placid mask, and nods. "Great, Gavin. I think we're actually ready to go. Are you ready to go, sweetheart?" He turns his attention to her. She sucks in a breath at the endearment. To her credit, she otherwise maintains her cool.

 

Her voice doesn't even tremble as she looks directly at their server and asks for the check. Atta girl.

 

Gavin takes the portable reader from his apron. Before Shuri can say no, Ross pulls his credit card up on his phone and taps the device to pay, leaving a tip as well. The waiter thanks them and then bids them a goodnight before walking off.

 

"Please tell me we're not done here." 

 

Ross smiles in amusement as he notes her breathy tone and the almost pained expression that's taken over her face. "I think you're _done_ making the demands here. _Car. Now_." 

 

She huffs, but he can smell how much she likes that as her thighs open and close reflexively. He rises and steps out of the booth to usher her past. 

 

It shouldn't surprise him. Her eyes spelled trouble the second she stood up. Still, her bottom presses into his groin - a perfect fit, like it _belongs_ there - and his mouth falls open. 

 

Without thinking, his fingers reach just under her skirt. He pinches her left cheek. _Hard._

 

That draws a desperate whimper from her, and he's definitely going to need more of that. "What did I say, sweetheart? That was your last time," he whispers against the side of her face, bucking against her.

 

When Shuri whimpers a second time, left hand reaching back to dig into his hip, he can't help but grin.

 

This is going to be so much fun.


	2. Payback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had handled most everything in his life, up until now, with some degree of detachment and discipline. 
> 
> Then she slid past him in that dark booth, eyes rolling to the ceiling, and "Daddy" had dropped from her lips. And he knew, deep down, that he was done for. But true to form, she won't give in that easily, won't let him have what he wants without putting in the work. 
> 
> And it thrills him.

The drive to the hotel feels as if it takes an eternity. They're both silent, letting the music wash over them. 

 

The current that hums between them is nearly palpable in its intensity. It’s almost too much. But Everett feels it in his bones; barely a taste, and he’s already hooked.

 

He's growing hard again just thinking about the slick of her moisture against his fingers. She must be having similar thoughts. In his peripheral vision, he can see her move. She's gently rubbing her thighs together as her hips rock almost imperceptibly, in time with the music.

 

"We won't make it to the room if you keep doing that."

 

She stops. "Promise?"

 

"Shuri..." he warns.

 

"You're no fun." She pokes out her bottom lip, and he fights the urge to lean over and capture it between his teeth.

 

"We'll see about that." 

 

*

*

*

 

When the door to his hotel room clicks shut, it's as if all the air has been sucked out.

 

She idly walks around the bed, slender fingers grazing the duvet, then pulling open the heavy curtain at the window, and Everett feels for all the world like a caged animal. He slowly removes his blazer, rolls up his sleeves to feel less constricted.

 

Shuri has, again, put on the mask of innocence while she gazes at the city below. One hand drifts up to her neck as she ponders the view, absently fingering the choker she wears.

 

His blood is on fire, and saliva pools in his mouth as he watches her. 

 

Leaning against the closed door, he breathes in slowly, working to rein in the racy images and dangerous heat that run through him and fog up his brain.

 

He doesn’t even realize he’s spoken aloud until she starts, and glances over her shoulder at him (much like she had that first day).

 

“I forget - what did you call me, back there? When I warned you about bumping into me.”

 

Shuri blinks. “What do you mean?” Her bemused smirk is _almost_ convincing.

 

It’s all he can do not to snarl. “You know what I’m talking about.”

 

Her eyebrows lift in feigned surprise. "Ohhh, I don’t know,” she muses, casually turning her attention back to the window. “If I _did_ say something back at the bar, I’m sure it was a mistake. You haven’t _earned_ that.” 

 

Before now, Everett Ross hadn't really thought himself to be particularly dominant in bed. Sure, he often initiated, and he liked being on top. He had even tried role play once or twice, but it was never anything to write home about, never enough for him to let go. Then she slid past him in that dark booth, eyes rolling to the ceiling, and "Daddy" had dropped from her lips. And he knew, deep down, that he was done for. But true to form, she won't give in that easily, won't let him have what he wants without putting in the work. 

 

And it thrills him.

 

The gaze she levels his way in the glass’s reflection now both pisses him off and makes his cock twitch.

 

Challenge accepted.

 

Everett crosses the room in four strides, and then he's pressing her against the window. Her shocked little gasp makes him chuckle. "What's the matter, Princess?" he whispers against her ear.

 

Shuri's nails scrape the glass, palms pressed to the windowpane. "Everett." It's almost a whine.

 

"Mmm." He sweeps her hair over her left shoulder and breathes her in. "Uh uh, sweetheart. I don't know who that is." His tongue teasingly flicks at her earlobe. She shivers. He can see her closed eyelids in the reflective glass, and the way she bites her lip sets him hard as steel. "I think I need to teach you to respect your elder. Huh?" He ruts against her, before skimming a calloused hand up her hip. His palm tracks across her stomach, catching the fabric of her thin top to stroke the skin there. She feels like silk beneath his touch. It’s not nearly enough, but he wants to draw this out, so he paces himself. His slow, measured caress pulls another hitching breath from her mouth, and she turns her head into the bite he places on her neck. He groans.

 

She's so responsive, all he can focus on now is ways to tease and coax until she's melting in his hands. Her head drops back against his shoulder when he lightly brushes the skin just under her right breast. Ross is sure she can feel the pounding of his heart against her back as he runs his fingers over her soft mound, rubbing, kneading. His thumb grazes her nipple and she jumps. He lazily circles the little bud, feeling it pucker as he rolls and pinches it between his fingers, and Shuri's hips have started grinding against him in time with the motion.

 

His skin is flushed, overheated and tingling as he watches her face, studies her body in his arms. She's keening against his neck now, head still leaned back. She doesn't even notice the movement of his other hand until he's under her skirt. Her eyes snap open, unfocused as the fingers of his left hand skim over the soaked lace. He rubs back and forth, over and over. Then her heavy gaze finds his, and he increases the pressure. 

 

Everett knows exactly what he's doing to her. The friction of her panties between his fingers and her sensitive skin is sending her into a small frenzy. Shuri's hands reach back into his hair. When he switches his right hand to her other nipple, he finds her clit as well, and gives them both a tug. 

 

" _Please_ , Ev!"

 

He stops abruptly. His hands drop down to her sides. That causes her to groan, still panting from his attentions. 

 

"Fine. We'll do it the hard way,” he rasps.

 

But she doesn't really hear him. He reaches up and grasps her jaw with his left hand. There's one thing they need to establish, first. "Safeword?"

 

Her brow furrows as she focuses. "What?" 

 

" _Safe. Word_. Do you know what that is?" 

 

She nods, eyes wide, and it's so incredibly cute. He's going to enjoy this. 

 

"I'm waiting," he says wickedly and brings his left index and middle fingers to his lips, sucking her tangy essence from his skin. It has the desired reaction. She inhales, and her pupils dilate even further. "Well?" She's taking too long to think.

 

Shuri clears her throat as she straightens up. "R-reboot."

 

"Final answer?"

 

She huffs impatiently, and that's all the cue he needs. 

 

Everett slowly backs up half a foot. Then he yanks her hips against him, hand pressing into the small of her back to bend her forward. "Manners, little girl," he scolds. Once he's convinced she'll stay put, he walks toward the window, his fingers tracing the length of her spine. Her hands still touch the windowpane in an attempt to stabilize herself. He runs both hands along her arms, then abruptly grabs her wrists and slaps her palms firmly against the glass. She jerks her head up.

 

"Tell you what," he says as he crouches down next to her, his lips inches from hers. "Since you were so fascinated with looking out this window a few minutes ago, you're gonna keep your eyes on it." Shuri's chest heaves with the effort of her breathing, and he can't suppress a smirk at how desperate she looks. "Stay still, eyes forward, understand?"

 

"Okay," she whispers.

 

He tsks. "Is that how you answer Daddy?"

 

The way her lips curl up and her eyes flash clenches something in his gut. He cocks his head, waiting for her answer, but she doesn't give it. Stubborn little minx.

 

Ross stands, leisurely walking back to stand behind her. He nudges her legs apart with his foot, then lifts her skirt, and she looks so enticing bent over like this for him. To add insult to injury, she wiggles her bottom.

 

SMACK!

 

The slap he lands to her right cheek forces her forward, and she yelps. 

 

" _Still_ , baby girl." That draws a moan from her. His hand soothes the spot he's just spanked. When he comes down on her left cheek, she briefly raises up on her toes. This one is harder. The sharp crack of his palm against her skin echoes in the room, and his head falls back for a moment. _Fuck_ , he loves that sound.

 

"You've been a brat all day," he mutters. "Waving your little ass in my face all night, huh Princess?" 

 

SMACK! 

 

"Like I wouldn't notice?" 

 

SMACK! 

 

"Call me Daddy, like it's a joke?" 

 

SMACK! 

 

"Act like you don't remember." 

 

SMACK! 

 

"That's not very nice." 

 

SMACK! 

 

"You know better than that." 

 

When the eighth one lands, she's moaning and crying so sweetly, his dick aches. He tenderly massages her before sinking to his knees. The smell of her arousal overwhelms him and his eyes roll back as he brings his nose to her entrance. Reverentially, he strips the fabric from her hips, placing sloppy wet kisses under the curves of her cheeks, her thighs, the backs of her knees, her ankles. 

 

Shuri trembles above him, but otherwise doesn't move. He helps her step out of her panties one foot at a time, leaving her leather heeled booties on. His hands skim back up the surface of her thigh-highs to grope her ass, then he presses a finger to her center. "Shit, Shuri, you're soaked." 

 

His lips find her slit and he hums, deep and loud and long, before quickly dipping his tongue between her folds.

 

Her knees buckle.

 

He’s ready, steady hands bracing her before she can fall.

 

“Poor little baby girl, can’t stand without Daddy, can you?” he sneers. Before he can stop himself, Everett sinks his teeth into the ripe flesh of her lush round bottom, stopping just shy of breaking skin. His tongue laves the mark he’s left. 

 

“ _Ffffuck. You_.” She hisses the two syllables out with as much venom as she can muster, but the wet squelching sounds of her pussy as she rubs her thighs together gives her away.

 

A deep, dark chuckle works its way up from Ross's chest. Brat, indeed. As much as he craves the sound of her angelic voice whimpering out _Daddy_ , every little bit of backtalk she gives makes him harder and harder. 

 

He stands without another word. The metallic clink of his buckle gets her attention, and she looks back. Whatever snarky comment she was planning morphs into a squeal as worn leather meets her backside. He lands several light licks to her ass and the backs of her thighs, his free hand gripping a hip to keep her still. Every blow sends little sparks up and down his spine, and they're both panting by the time he's done. The last crack hits, and she squirms. He trails a path up the inside of one damp thigh, then the other. When the belt lightly taps her swollen bud, her legs falter again as she cries out.

 

Dropping the belt, Everett wraps an arm around her waist and carefully guides her knees to the carpeted floor. She's warm and pliable against him, molding to his touch. The smell of her arousal and the scent of her hair invade his brain as he ghosts his lips across her exposed shoulder. His right hand moves of its own volition, brushing up her stomach, between her breasts. It almost surprises them both when his rough palm goes all the way up, fingers lightly wrapping around her throat.

 

He squeezes the faintest bit. The action bleeds a raw, desperate groan from her lips, and she rubs against him. He does it again, and her hips roll more deliberately. She's practically purring.

 

"Fuck," he grunts, pulling her tighter against him. "You like that, baby girl?"

 

Shuri mewls and nods her head frantically. 

 

"You ready to behave for Daddy?"

 

Another nod.

 

" _Say it_ , Shuri." His voice drops another octave and a shudder rolls through her small frame.

 

"Yes, Daddy."

 

Everett drops his head to her shoulder, exhaling sharply through his nose. 

 

"Do it again," she demands.

 

A smirk pulls at his lips, but she can't see it. He tuts, shaking his head against her skin. "I thought you said you were going to behave. Good girls don't tell their daddies what to do." She whines, then. He slowly releases his hold before getting to his feet. Moving in front of her, he remembers the open curtain and pulls it closed. When he turns back around, Shuri is watching him. His pulse races as he takes in the sight of her on her knees, pretty brown eyes staring.

 

Her gaze flickers to his fingers when he undoes the fly of his pants, letting them drop before he steps out. He palms his erection, hissing at the contact before pulling it from his boxers. Shuri licks her lips.

 

"Maybe this'll teach you." He places the engorged tip of his cock to her full lips, tapping twice. "Open, sweetheart."

 

Her lips part automatically, but he doesn't get a chance to push in. She darts her tongue out, licking the bead of moisture from his slit before swirling around the head. His hips jerk. That pushes him inside, and he brings a hand to the back of her head to steady himself. He flexes his fingers in her hair, and when his eyes drop to hers, he sees a glint that spells pure hell.

 

Everett can't help his grin. "Have you done this before?"

 

She nods.

 

Without another word, he glides all the way in, only stopping when he hits the back of her throat. Shuri gags and coughs, spit dribbling from her mouth. When he tries to pull back a bit, she grasps the base of his cock in one hand, holding him still. She relaxes, breathing through her nose. And then she sucks. Hard. His eyes nearly pop out of his head. 

 

Swiftly, he pulls almost all the way out. When she tries to draw him closer, he smacks her hand away and surges forward. She chokes again, and he hisses. "You're not in control here, Princess," he groans. "I'm gonna fuck that smart mouth until you understand." He steadily pumps in and out, in and out, savoring the warm, wet feel of her. His eyes are glued to her face as she hums and moans around him.

 

He can feel the inklings of an orgasm creeping up, but he won't let go yet. A shiver grabs hold of him as he abruptly pulls out, her wet mouth making a soft _pop_. She pants, licking the saliva from her lips while her eyes stay glued to his erection. It's all Everett can do not to haul her up and toss her on the bed. She still needs to learn.

 

"I'll ask you again: Are you ready to behave?"

 

A whisper of a smirk crosses her face before she presses her lips together, effectively stifling it. "Yes."

 

Everett growls.

 

"Yes, _Daddy_. I'll be good for you." She looks so innocent in that moment that he nearly reconsiders. Here she is, the princess of an entire nation - regal, brilliant, untouchable - and she's submitting to _him_. It's one thing to touch and tease and play. But the fire burning inside him now is quickly taking over, scorching him from the inside out, and it's all for her. He doesn't know if it's fair to consume her this way, no matter how long he's craved this, no matter how badly. "Please, Daddy, I promise. I want this. You want me, too, don't you?" She squirms then and presses her legs together, still kneeling on the floor before him. 

 

The air is suddenly thicker, and his heart clenches. He leans forward to capture her chin in his hand, his lips hovering above hers. "Of course I want you, sweetheart. Always have. You look so good like this, on your knees for me." He strokes the skin of her beautiful face, humming when she leans into his touch. "Do you want more?"

 

"Please," she breathes, right before he presses his mouth to hers. She moans against him, opening up enough to allow his tongue to slide past and stroke hers. He can taste himself on her lips, and that sets him to throbbing even more, if that's possible. When he pulls back, her eyes are still closed.

 

"Stand up." He means business now, and from the look on her face as her lids flutter open, she knows it.

 

Shuri shakily climbs to her feet, fingers playing with the hem of her skirt when she comes to stand in front of him. 

 

Ross steps into her, snaking an arm around her tiny waist. His nose brushes across her jawline. He inhales deeply, trying to memorize the intoxicating smell of her. When he runs his tongue up from her collarbones back to her neck, her fingers dig into his shoulders, and he latches onto her skin.

 

"Ever- Daddy. _Please_." She presses into him, rolls her hips against his, and he has to tighten the grip on her waist to keep from stumbling backward.

 

"Hmmmm," he rumbles against her throat. "You almost slipped up, didn't you?" He slides his free hand around her hip, down her right thigh, up under her skirt, skating his fingers over her supple bottom.

 

“N-no.” Her voice is barely a squeak.

 

With the hand holding her waist, he reaches down to roughly tug up the hem of her skirt. Shuri shivers at being exposed to the cool air in the room, and her hot breath rushes into his ear. Everett looks over her shoulder, hungrily taking in the sight of her cute little ass on display.

 

He fondles her, slipping one finger, then two between her soft cheeks, rubbing up and down. When he yanks her against him, giving her butt one good swat, she gasps in surprise.

 

“ _Don’t_ lie to me. You told Daddy you would be good. Good little girls don’t lie.”

 

“I’m sorry, Daddy! I won’t lie, I’m good, I swear.” She won’t stop moving against him - hands gripping and releasing his shoulders, head tilting back as he assaults her neck, hips wiggling as she arches into his greedy hands.

 

And greedy they are. Ross can’t keep from squeezing and tickling and rubbing as he pushes her against him, his dripping length like hot lead as it digs into her belly.

 

“Show me.”

 

Shuri stills. “What?”

 

“Show me, baby. Show Daddy how good you are. Then _maybe_ I’ll give you what you want.” She blows out a breath as he continues to fondle her. “Or maybe,” he muses, pushing a thick digit further between her cheeks, “I’ll just fuck you back here, hm? Pull you onto my lap and make you sit that pretty little ass right on my cock. Would you like that, Princess?”

 

Shuri nods her head against his shoulder and whines out an “Mmhmm” that is almost enough to make him cum right then and there.

 

Before he can lose his resolve, he spins them around toward the large armchair in the corner near the window. He carefully guides her back, but stops her before she can sit.

 

“I’m going to undress you, sweetheart.”

 

“Okay, Daddy," she answers sweetly, and he has to bite back a triumphant grin. 

 

He starts with her skirt first. His fingers feel around until he finds the zipper, undoing it before he slides the circle of fabric from her waist. His eyes take in the view of her exposed lower half, and he can’t help but lick his lips. “Beautiful,” he murmurs. Shuri bashfully drops her eyes to the floor, and it’s so endearing that he thinks he might burst. “Look at me.” 

 

She jerks her head up at the sternness in his tone, but the corners of her lips quirk up when she meets his gentle gaze. He reaches for the hem of her shirt, then, slowly lifting it. She raises her arms automatically to help him peel it off, and then she’s completely nude before him, save for the stockings, the boots, her little choker necklace, and the tiny circle of beads about her waist.

 

“The rest of it stays,” he says firmly, and she simply nods.

 

His skin feels like a live wire. He’s itching to touch every inch of her bare flesh. He nearly drools at the sight of her burnt umber skin, glowing in the lamplight of the room. Her dark brown nipples are already standing at attention under his intense stare, and he licks his lips as he trails his eyes down her smooth stomach to the small patch of curls covering her womanhood. One deep inhale, and he can practically taste her on the air. He longs to see her spread wide open for him.

 

“Have a seat.” His voice is strangled with need, and it sounds foreign, even to his own ears.

 

Shuri sits without hesitation, eyes wide and questioning as she watches him back up until he’s at the end of the bed.

 

When he sits back, her brow furrows, but she doesn’t speak.

 

“Touch yourself.”

 

Shuri shifts in her seat and clears her throat. “Daddy-“

 

“Do it for me, baby girl. Show me how you touch yourself when no one’s around.” 

 

Everett can hardly breathe as he waits for her to comply. He’s dreamt about her touching herself a million times, he’ll admit that now, and he’s practically aching to see it come to life in front of his eyes. He gives her an encouraging nod when she hesitates. And then he dips his dominant hand into his boxers to pull out his hardened length, palms his balls as he eyes her intently.

 

That’s all the encouragement she needs.

 

Shuri slides both of her hands down her thighs, then up toward her hips. Instead of stopping, however, she continues up. All the way up her sides to her neck, before moving back down to her chest. She caresses each breast, lightly rubbing, stroking. 

 

A short moan leaves her lips, and Everett is mesmerized. His hand involuntarily squeezes as he watches her circle each nipple with an index finger. Shuri groans, louder this time, when she takes a dark bud between the fingers of each hand, lightly pinching and rolling. Her hips raise slightly off the fluffy cushion as she moves to relieve some of the pressure she’s no doubt feeling below her waist. Letting her head fall back, she slides further down into the chair, skimming a palm down her stomach to stop just above her mound.

 

He must have made a noise, because in the next instant, Shuri lifts her head to look directly at him, and she doesn’t hide the devilish grin that’s on her face now. “What’s wrong, Daddy? I thought you wanted me to do this?” But she’s purposely teasing him, inching the fingers of her left hand closer to her center, but never touching. Her legs are closed tightly, and she still fondles her breasts, but she refuses to do what he asked.

 

“You know what I want. I won’t warn you again, Shuri.” He knows he sounds nearly feral, but he doesn’t care one bit, and the way she swallows at the command speaks volumes.

 

Keeping her eyes on his, she parts her legs, wide as they’ll go in the chair, and brings both hands down to play at her folds. “Ah!” The startled gasp is sharp in the quiet room when she slips a long finger into her heat while her other hand spreads her open. Ross leans forward, and his heart threatens to beat clear out of his chest.

 

“That’s it baby,” he groans. “You’re being such a good girl. Touch yourself for Daddy. Show me what you like.”

 

She circles her engorged clit with two fingers, rubbing her moisture around before thrusting inside of herself. Her hips jerk, and she cries out.

 

Ross is panting now, and sweat drips from his brow. “Tell me how it feels.”

 

“Good,” she moans.

 

“Is this what you do when you’re all alone? Do you think about me when you’re fucking yourself, sweetheart? About how good it would feel to have my dick deep inside you?”

 

Shuri’s legs are shaking as she strokes the front of her walls, her other hand strumming and tapping her little clit like her life depends on it. “ _Fuck_ yes, Daddy!”

 

“Tell me, baby.” Ross has to stop the motion of his own hand. He’s getting close, and he doesn’t want to finish like this, but he can’t stop watching her.

 

“I think about you all the time," she whines. "Mmmm, _Bast_ , I love getting off to you, Ev. I dream about you fucking me so hard, just like this.”

 

The wind is knocked completely out of him. That one admission shuts all rational thought down entirely, and he lets his first name slide, because he can’t believe what he’s just heard. He gets up from the bed and drops to his knees before her, leaning up to pull her bottom lip between his teeth. 

 

“What do you want, baby?”

 

Her fingers haven’t stopped moving and her hips keep thrusting. He brings a firm hand down to steady her.

 

“What does my little girl want?”

 

“Oooh ssssshhhit! I want to cum, Daddy, please let me cum!” Her sweet voice sounds so desperate and raw, and he knows she’s right on the edge. 

 

So he brings his lips to her ear and gives her another command. “Then cum.”

 

Her fingers move at a frantic pace. He keeps one hand firmly on her hips and brings the other to her breast, pulling and flicking one nipple as his mouth latches onto the other.

 

Then she arches against him, still for one breathtaking moment before her entire body breaks apart in a quivering mess. 

 

Before she can come down, Everett scoots her into his lap and stands. In two strides, he deposits her onto the firm mattress, climbing up after her. After shucking his shirt and boxers, he yanks off each of her shoes. He gives her one second, one look, one nod, before lining himself up with her entrance.

 

And then he plunges forward.

 

In one motion, Everett is buried to the hilt, and Shuri clenches around him so tightly he thinks he might pass out.

 

His eyes droop closed as he tells himself to breathe, just breathe, or this will be over before he starts, and he can't remember the last time he had to worry about something like that. He's surrounded by her breath, her hair, her skin, and he wants to burrow deeper until he can't tell the difference between them. Her molten walls are still pulsing around him, her tiny frame shaking beneath his own. 

 

When he moves, something inside him snaps into place. 

 

They both moan.

 

Shuri wraps her arms around him and her teeth graze his shoulder, trying to ground herself as he painstakingly draws in then out, again and again and again. He drunkenly whispers filthy praises into her ear, pulling one high-pitched moan after another from her mouth.

 

" _So_ good, Daddy" she pants. 

 

Ross hums deep in his chest. "Yeah, baby girl? How do you want it?" He withdraws, inch by inch, then snaps his hips forward.

 

She draws in a shuddering breath. "H-harder!"

 

The muscles of his lower abdomen clench as heat coils there. He hitches her legs higher up his sides so that her knees are almost at her shoulders when he leans forward to kiss her fiercely. She struggles to swivel her hips into his, but he pulls back. 

 

Raising up on his knees, he abruptly lifts each of her arms above her head to the headboard and holds her wrists with one large hand. He slides his left hand up to firmly grip her jaw. "You remember your safeword, sweetheart?"

 

Shuri nods, but when he squeezes slightly, she gasps. "Yes, Daddy. Reboot."

 

"Good girl. 'Yellow' if you want me to slow down. Understand?"

 

"Yes. I won't break. Please." She bucks up against him, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. 

 

Everett grins, then. He slides the hand on her jaw down to her throat and applies pressure. She licks her lips, tilting her head back to give him better access. He brings his lips to hers. "Am I gonna need to tie your hands, or will you keep them still?"

 

"I'll keep them still, I promise."

 

Before she can catch her breath, he surges into her. Her mouth opens on a silent scream, and he does it again. He can feel the tip of his aching cock nudge her womb, and that spurs him along, drives him to thrust into her mercilessly until she's trembling again, right on the edge of another orgasm. His hand cramps as he holds her arms above her head. Letting go, he grabs a hold of her hips to angle deeper, never skipping a beat. He moves like a man possessed, wrapping an arm around her back to lift her pelvis up higher, stroking her spot and digging her out while he growls against her skin, fit to burst.

 

She whines and whimpers and keens, thrashing her head about. "More," she chokes out. " _Fuck_ me, Daddy- oh god!"

 

Everett swears she's going to kill him, clenching and shaking around him, sobbing in his ear. He slides his left hand back up to her throat and squeezes again. When she moans, and her walls spasm, he does it harder, watches as her eyes roll in the back of her head.

 

"You're so beautiful. Look at you, taking my dick so well. Are you gonna cum, baby girl?"

 

Her fingers grip the headboard behind her, and Shuri lifts clear off the bed, pressing her chest to his as her climax rips through her. She gushes around him, dripping down both of their thighs and onto the ornate bedspread below. He holds her close like the precious thing she is and moves a thumb to her bundle of nerves to prolong her orgasm.

 

He wants to drown in the slurred whispers of "Daddy" mixed with his name, and words that he's sure are expletives in Xhosa. The need to cum has him practically vibrating. But she's so fucking gorgeous, and _incredibly_ wet, and he's not ready for it to be over yet.

 

He smoothly pulls out and kisses and licks and bites his way down her body, until he's hovering over her soaking entrance. "You smell so fucking good, sweetheart." He looks up to her face. "Hold onto Daddy."

 

When she doesn't move, he lightly smacks her pussy. "I don't like repeating myself, baby girl."

 

Shuri grips the strands of his greying hair with shaking fingers as he laps up her honey, licking her clean only to make more of a mess when he sucks her hard into his mouth and draws more of her cum from her. It doesn't take long to build her up again. Her body starts to react as he eats her out, and she thrusts against his mouth.

 

"Daddy, I-I'm-"

 

"What, baby?"

 

Her voice shakes. "I can't- It's too much!"

 

He arches a brow, but doesn't let up. "Are you using your safe word, Shuri?"

 

"N-no, I-" Shuri shakes her head frantically, eyes popping open to meet his, and he chuckles.

 

"That's what I thought." 

 

She squeezes her thighs around his head when she cums a third time, undulating her lithe body under his touch uncontrollably, until she comes floating down.

 

Everett watches the whole thing in awe, mapping the curves and planes of her body with his hands.

 

He crawls up next to her and pulls her into his arms, whispering into her hair. "Amazing, baby girl. You did so good, so so good for me." Shuri sighs, settling her back into his chest. She lazily wiggles her bottom against him, then. He curses under his breath.

 

When she turns her head, her eyebrows are raised. She can feel him nudging her lower back.

 

“You didn’t finish?”

 

It takes effort to draw in a full breath when she’s staring at him like that. “I just wanted you to make you feel good, sweetheart. I didn’t want to push you too hard.” Not yet.

 

Her eyes soften for the briefest of moments. And then she slowly swipes her tongue across her lips, before pushing her ass against him like she means it. His hips jerk against her and he screws his eyes shut. He’s so hard, the friction is almost too much.

 

She reaches a hand up and back to thread into his hair again as she mutters against his lips. “Are you done already, old man? I thought maybe you had something else up your sleeve?” Her teasing tone and the dismissive shrug she gives do him in.

 

He flips her on all fours, and her breathless squeal tells him she wasn’t expecting him to use so much force. Pressing his chest to her back, he reaches forward and pinches a nipple, so hard she tries to scramble away.

 

Ross is faster. He buries a hand in the braids at the nape of her neck, yanking her back against him. When he bites down on the junction between her neck and shoulder and tugs a little harder, she’s panting again.

 

“Oh, Princess. Did you forget who you’re talking to? Daddy didn’t say anything about being done.”

 

He can tell she’s trying not to struggle against him. “I’m s-sorry.”

 

“I don’t know,” he says in feigned contemplation, eyes roaming the curve of her ass as he sits up. “I was trying to be nice, but I think you need another spanking. That sounded a little bratty to me. I thought I fucked it out of you, but maybe I was wrong.”

 

Her skin is slick and hot under his hands as he grasps her hip, right hand still tangled in her hair.

 

He slides his erection over her swollen folds, and he can’t believe how wet she is. He pinches her ass this time, left cheek, then right. 

 

“Ow! Daddy-!” A fresh flood of her dripping hot arousal runs over his hardened length as he continues to tease her entrance.

 

He leans forward to mumble into the skin of her neck. “I’m gonna tell you a little secret, baby girl.”

 

“ _Tell me_ ,” she whines.

 

That earns her a spank.

 

“Daddy likes when you talk back. You know why?”

 

She shakes her head, and he grunts as she starts to rock back and forth, sliding her slick pussy lips against him. He yanks back on her hair again.

 

“I like when you talk back, because that means I get to fuck you harder.” He slips just the head inside her walls, and stops. “You’re so fucking hot, bossing me around, being such a little brat. And I love choking you with my cock until you forget how to be a brat, and all you can say is ‘Daddy’.”

 

She tries to sit back and push him further inside, but he spanks her again, and she cries out. 

 

“Are you Daddy’s little brat?”

 

“Mmmmmm yyyyeeesssss.”

 

He practically roars, sweat dripping down his back as he shoves in just a little more. “Say it, baby girl.”

 

“I-I’m Daddy’s little brat! Please, _fuck_!” She yells when he shoves all the way in. This angle is entirely different, and he doesn’t even recognize the wild sounds that fill the air, isn’t sure if it’s her, or him, or both, as he bottoms out from behind. His eyes are glued to the vision of his thick pink cock, covered in her cum, sliding in and out of her lovely walls.

 

Releasing her hair, Everett grabs both of her hips, pounding into her as her arms drop and she buries her face in the pillows against the headboard. He’s brutal in the way he fucks her. His vision blurs and sounds collide and his hands tingle as he grabs her tighter, pulls her harder against him over and over.

 

She’s mewling into the pillows as she rolls and rocks her hips back onto him on her own now, so hard and steady that she doesn’t even realize when he pauses his own movement just to watch the erotic dance she does against him. Her perfect brown ass feverishly slams into his hips. Then she clenches.

 

That pulls Everett out of his trance, and he surges forward, drives home with such force that her knees slide out from under her and his body is lying on top of hers, pressing her into the bed. She writhes beneath him, begging and crying, and he drinks in every second likes it’s his last. Like he won’t ever get to do this again. 

 

And he doesn’t know if he will, if she’ll let him, if it’s allowed. So he reaches beneath her hips, draws her back just the slightest bit so he has access to her little bundle of nerves as he slides her back and forth on his rock hard length.

 

He doesn’t even know what he’s mumbling into the back of her neck, but it feels natural as he circles his fingers over her clit and moves inside of her like he’s trying to fuse them together. 

 

His Shuri, his Princess, his baby girl, even if it’s just for tonight. Everett knows she doesn’t realize how far gone he is. Every wall, every excuse, every restraint is falling away, but he pushes those thoughts aside, and focuses on the best way to draw her very soul out of her body with his lips, and his hands, and his cock, and his tongue.

 

“So fucking good. Look at you. Fucking beautiful. I never want to stop. Never, never. _Shit_. You’re gonna make Daddy cum. You want me to cum inside you baby?”

 

Her walls have started fluttering around him and her hands are digging into the sheets. And right before they unravel, she whimpers out, “Cum, Daddy! _Yes!_ ”

 

Everything goes black as he buries his face in the crook of her neck from behind and she pulls his orgasm from him so forcefully that he thinks he may scream.

 

He holds himself up on one elbow, careful not to crush her while his hips jerk into her and then he stills, painting her pink walls with ropes of his seed until it’s spilling out around them.

 

She wails beneath him, teeth biting into the pillow while she convulses. 

 

When her body goes slack, he carefully, gingerly pulls out. 

 

He rolls over onto his side, bringing her with him. Her chest heaves as she struggles to catch her breath. His hand brushes a few stray braids away, giving him an unobstructed view of her gorgeous face. He gently kneads and rubs nearly every part of her he can reach in this position, kisses her forehead, her nose, her lips.

 

Eventually, her breathing slows and evens out. He knows he should wake her, take her into the bathroom to get her cleaned up so she can sneak back to her own hotel room. But her warm weight against him is so comforting, and she smells like home.

 

He strokes her hair again and kisses her shoulder, whispering his confession into her skin. “I love you.”

 

And then his heart seizes when she rolls over in his arms, a tiny smirk on her lips. “Is that so?” she murmurs. Her eyes slowly open, and she stares directly into him.

 

All he can do is shake his head. “I thought you were asleep, Princess.”

 

She scoffs. “You’re deflecting, Agent.” That makes him chuckle. Her expression turns from teasing to serious, then, and she searches his face for a long minute. “Do you mean it?”

 

He finds himself nodding before he can stop. He’s already given her everything. What else can he lose? Sucking in a deep breath, he steels himself. “I do.”

 

A slow smile spreads on her face, and he thinks the sheer radiance of it might blind him. “Good.”

 

*

*

*

 

When he takes her again, slower this time, a tiny frission of fear runs through him. Because he’ll never get enough of her, and he’s never truly been addicted to anything, but this has to be it. As he sits back against the pillows, pinning her arms behind her back while she winds her hips and tries to take him deeper, he lets a low whine escape from his throat.

 

“ _Daddy_ ," she whimpers, "you feel _so_ good. Mmmfff fuck." Her chin drops to her chest, a small line forming between her brows.

 

In one fluid motion, Everett sits all the way up and bends his knees, fuses one hand to her ass while the other reaches back to lean on the bed. He can feel her coiling tighter around him and he reads her body like it’s the only thing he knows. She wants it faster, harder.

 

But he takes her down gradually, piece by piece. He makes love to her, chest tightening while he holds her against him and licks the salt from her skin.

 

He doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath since his whispered admission. 

 

Then she says it. 

 

Into the air, with her head lolled back; against his chest as her teeth graze his skin; and then against his lips, breathless and needy and sure, staring into his eyes as she strokes his face and starts to shake around him.

 

“ _I love you_.”

 

It breathes air back into his lungs, and his orgasm hits him like a train. His hips stutter and he sobs into her mouth while he pulls her tight, nerve endings raw when she reaches her own release, seconds later.

 

*

*

*

 

Shuri sits on the counter in front of him, eyelids drooping, sighing contentedly while he cleans her. He watches the beautiful contrast of his skin against hers, worships the glowing canvas of her body, dropping kisses as he goes.

 

By the time he helps her dress, the sky is beginning to lighten, and his heart sinks. The plea threatens to strangle him as it forces its way from his chest, to his throat, to his tightly closed lips. He wants to ask her to stay. Instead, he opens the door and ushers her into the hallway, an amused smirk tugging at his mouth when her lips part on a yawn.

 

 

“How long are you in town?” His feet grow heavier as they near her room.

 

“A week,” she answers. “You?”

 

“As long as you need me to be.”

 

She hums. “You know it’s dangerous to let me have that kind of power.”

 

He sobers, then. “You already have it.” And she knows he isn’t just referring to his role as liaison.

 

Shuri doesn’t speak for a moment, just watches him as they walk to her door.

 

“You know,” Everett says quietly, “I was thinking of flying out to Wakanda. I’m overdue for a visit there, too.”

 

Her eyes light up, but her expression otherwise stays neutral. “Oh?”

 

“Mhmm.” He shoves his hands in his pockets as they come to a stop in front of her room. “I was thinking I might stay for a while. I have a lot of leave saved up.”

 

“How can you work if you’re on leave?”

 

“I didn’t say it was for work, Princess.”

 

He gasps in surprise when her mouth presses to his. It’s brief, but intense, and his lips buzz from the contact. 

 

Then reality hits him. Ice settles in his gut as their little bubble begins to dissolve. It’s silly, he knows. He’ll see her in a few hours at the Centre. But that will be under watchful eyes, where he’ll have to pretend that he didn’t spend the entire night getting under her skin and absorbing her very essence into his veins. “What do you want, Shuri? For...for us. _Is_ there an us?”

 

She rolls her eyes then. “Everett Ross, if you think everything I did and said back there doesn’t mean there’s an ‘us,’ as you say, than you’re more foolish than I thought.”

 

He chuckles in spite of himself. “I just want to make sure this is what you want. That you know what we’re getting into if we do this for real.”

 

“And that you won’t have an angry Black Panther on your ass.” The arch of her brow and the wry smirk on her face pulls laughter from him, and warms his chest.

 

“Something like that.” He nods.

 

Shuri’s slender fingers lift his face to hers. “Do you trust me?” she breathes.

 

“I trust you, Princess.” And he does. His life was in her hands the day T’Challa brought him to her. Of course his faith is in her.

 

“Then believe that I know what I want. I’m choosing this.” She firmly grasps his chin, brushes his bottom lip with her thumb. “And know that I’m not leading you to your death,” she jokes.

 

This woman. She’s simultaneously killing him and bringing him back to life, and he doesn’t know which he loves more.

 

“Alright,” he concedes, quickly dropping a kiss to the hand that still holds his chin.

 

Shuri smiles sweetly. Her dark eyes glimmer as she seems to think of something. Then she drops her hand and licks her lips. “I can’t promise it will all be easy, though. You sure you’re up for this, old man? Don’t want to burn you out.” Her eyes blatantly roam over him from head to toe, baiting him.

 

The shift is instantaneous. The cold in his belly is replaced with a flash of heat that curls his toes, and his voice drops. “Bite your tongue, baby girl. I might think you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to again.”

 

She inhales sharply. When she steps further into his personal space and hooks her fingers into the waistband of his pants, she bites her lip. “And who would that be?” Her head tilts innocently enough, but he doesn’t miss her tone.

 

“ _Shuri_ ,” he groans. “We shouldn’t be doing this out here. You need to get in your room.” Everett’s eyes dart around the empty corridor outside of her suite, checking to make sure her Dora Milaje detail haven’t made an appearance yet. It’s nearly 6 a.m., and she really should go inside before they realize she didn’t sleep in her own bed last night. The way she’s looking at him now, the taunt in her eyes and on her lips; it all threatens to push him over the edge again. He flexes his fingers, resisting the impulse to open the door and haul her inside over his shoulder.

 

Her soft bottom lip pokes out at his warning. She frowns, tightening her grip on the fabric of his pants. “And what if I don’t want to?” she utters, inches from his face. 

 

He huffs out a breath through his nose, nostrils flaring. "Keep it up and you'll find out. Last night was just a _taste_ , Princess."

 

"Hmmm. Big talk, old man." She raises a brow, enjoying this entirely too much. But so is he. A tingle spreads out all the way from the top of his head down his spine and out through his extremities. His pants grow tight again when her fingers graze the skin just under the waistband.

 

Without thinking, he reaches up to firmly grip her wrists and stop the maddening movement of her hands before he can burn to ash right there in the open corridor. "You'd better watch your mouth. Remember what I said about talking back." Reluctantly, he releases her hands and nudges her toward the doorway.

 

Once she swipes her keycard and steps across the threshold, she turns back to gaze at him, leaning against the door. 

 

Everett bites his lip to cover his smirk. " _Inside_ , baby girl. _Now_. I'll deal with you tonight."

 

Shuri shivers, and then she bats her lashes. " _Yes, Daddy_." The door shuts in his face before he can react. He growls, and her answering giggle tells him that she knows exactly what she just did. 

 

He's _aching_ again, just like that, on edge before the day has even begun. 

 

The one thing that will get him through echoes in his brain as he rubs his lips and strides back down the hall toward the elevator. 

 

_Tonight._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, I'm SUPER sorry it has taken me so long to update this. I was planning on ending it here, but now my stupid brain is like, "we write more?". So yeah, not sure if anyone is interested in this continuing or not lol. Let me know your thoughts!
> 
> As always, thank you x infinity for reading!! Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed! I appreciate them very much! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure exactly how many more chapters (this won't be an epic, by any means lol), but I hope you like it! Thank you so much for reading! I'm always appreciative of kudos and comments! <3


End file.
